Disclaimer: These two ladies
look familiar and all that, but you know the drill. They're mine, so please
don't drool too much.

Violence: Nah.

Subtext: Well, it is two women
involved, but there's really no sex in this one. It's just a really
cute, Nora Ephron-type feel-good story.

Note: Okay, just so no one decides
to lynch me: I do not, nor have I ever, worked at either the New York Post or
the Bergen Record. So, in short I have no clue as to how either paper is set
up. I admit this totally, so don't say I didn't warn you.

If you'd like to tell me
what a wonderful writer I am, or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com

For Alexa. Always and forever.

"April
Fools, Charlie Brown!"

by

Kim
Pritekel

The problem with the world
today is that no one has a sense of humor anymore. What is the deal with
that? I personally think it is one of the greatest sins of all time, to
take oneself too seriously. Hell, I open myself up everyday for all to make
fun. So why not you?

In short, as this April Fools comes
upon us, take a step back, look at yourself, and don't take life or
yourself too seriously. Life is serious enough.

K. Reynolds

Kelly hit the Return key, and
sat back in her chair, chewing on the arm of her glasses as she read what
she had just written for her weekly column. Nodding with approval, she saved
it, and tossed the glasses onto the desk, rubbing between her eyes to try
and relieve some of the tension. The damn headaches again.

"Kel?"

Green eyes opened to see Bill
Stuart, the Post's editor, standing in the doorway of her tiny, cramped
office.

"Yeah?"

"You almost done? I need that
column within the hour." The petite blonde watched as her boss of eight years
loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top button. Stuey was stressed.

"Yeah. What's up, boss?"
she asked, standing to stretch her back. Bill walked into the office, and
plopped his weight down into the one worn chair in front of Kelly's desk,
running a meaty hand through graying hair.

"Ah, hell. That damn April
Fools spread we got going out is giving me the worst damn headache. Who the
hell came up with this lame-ass idea, anyway?" he pounded the heel of his
hand against the edge of the desk.

"Well, you did, Bill."

Stuey rolled his eyes at the
grin across from him. "Yeah, well it was lame-ass. I wish the damn Record
would fall off the face of the earth."

"Nah. That's not nice.
Then who would we compete with, Stu? The Times?" Kelly snorted. "Right." She
walked around the side of her desk, careful to not bang her hip bone on the
wall as she passed through the narrow space, slapping the editor on the back.
"Come on, old man. I need to work."

Bill Stuart stood with a sigh,
headed the couple steps to the door, then turned. "When can I expect the column
from you?"

"Uh," Kelly scratched her head
with the eraser of her pencil, staring down at the pile of papers on her desk.
"Well, I have that interview tonight with Tommy Mathis, so I'll print
it out and leave it on my desk, okay? You wanna come by and pick it up?"

"Sure. That'll work."
With a smile, Stuart was gone. Kelly squeezed back to her chair again, and
sat, trying to decide what to do. She looked her column over again, fixing
a few minor mistakes, and clicked save, then print. The printer sputtered,
then hummed to life. With a sigh of relief that it was actually going to work
this time, Kelly began searching through her files looking for her April Fools
article to print out.

As the first document printed,
she re-read the April Fools piece, a slow, mischievous smile spread across
her face. The paper wasn't finished, so she figured it best to print
it out, take it home, and finish it the old fashioned way; by hand.

Kelly started at the shrill
ring of her phone. Hand on her chest to still her racing heart, she picked
up the receiver.

"Oh." Kelly glanced at the
clock, then out the tiny window behind her desk. The snow had begun to fall
in earnest. "Uh, when,"

"Well, how quickly can you
be here?"

"Now?" she nearly yelled into
the phone. The afternoon traffic would be the death of her. She had hoped
to let the worst of it pass before heading out. Pulling her professionalism
back in, she cleared her throat. "I mean, you want me to head out soon?"

"Yes. I'll be here until
6."

Kelly looked at the clock again,
and nearly fell out of her chair.

"Uh, okay. I think I can be
there in twenty minutes."

"Great! See you then."

Kelly looked at the dead receiver
in her hands as if it were a three headed snake, then slammed it down as realization
dawned on her. She grabbed her purse out of the top drawer of the desk, slung
her jacket over her shoulder, and ran out of the office, returning seconds
later to grab her briefcase from the floor near the door.

The traffic was horrible just
as she'd figured it would be. The blonde stood at the corner, watching
as late day New York traffic sped by at alarming speeds. A taxi! Getting excited,
Kelly waved her arm out, the yellow cab stopping.

"Thank you," she breathed,
glancing up into the iron-gray sky. The cab screeched to a halt, and Kelly
quickly opened the back door, slamming it behind her, the cold nearly pushing
her over to the other side.

"Cold one, huh?" the cabby
said, blonde hair tucked into a neat ponytail. "Names Nic. Where can I take
you?"

"How are you, Nic. Um, I need
to be here. Can you get me there in under twenty?" the young woman took the
piece of paper Kelly offered, and nodded.

"Hold on."

Kelly felt her entire body
press back into the creaky vinyl seat as the cabby put the pedal to the metal,
and they began to nearly fly down the street.

"Kelly?" Bill Stuart stuck
his head inside the doorway just down from his. His thick brows drew when
he didn't see his reporter behind her desk. "Shit." He walked into the
office fingering some of the papers scattered on the desk. "I will kill her
if she didn't leave it," he continued to look when suddenly his eyes
shot up to the printer, and he grinned. "That's my girl." He grabbed
for the papers sticking out, rolling them, walked out.

Night was fully on the city,
as was the bitter cold. Kelly shivered as she made her way into McDougal's,
her home away from home away from the office. The warm, friendly atmosphere
met her as she pulled open the heavy door, the glass half covered with steam.
She sighed as she looked around, the typical Friday crowd inside, unwinding.
It was early, so the real hard weekend fun-goers had yet to arrive. Her smile
grew even larger when she saw her at the bar.

Kelly removed her scarf and
gloves as she took a seat next to Charlotte. The brunette looked over at her,
the tiniest bit of beer foam still on her upper lip from the drink she'd
just taken. Charlotte smiled.

"Hey, you. How goes it?"

Kelly situated herself on the
stool, always finding them terribly uncomfortable, but never able to find
the courage to ask the tall beauty if she'd like to get a booth.

Within moments a cold mug of
Bud was slid down the mahogany bar, right into Kelly's awaiting hand.
The brunette watched the blonde drink, long, smooth gulps, her throat working
with each swallow. She smiled and shook her head.

Kelly slammed the half-empty
mug down onto the wood with a satisfied smile. "That was so good." She looked
to her companion, her face suddenly turning serious. "You know, we've
known each other now for, what, six months? I still don't know a thing
about you." The brunette shrugged.

"Yeah, I suppose that's
true." She downed the rest of her beer, and pulled out her wallet from her
purse. "However, whatever I may want to know about you, or answer from you,
I have to get going." She slipped a five under her empty beer mug, and turned
to the blonde as she stood, pulling her overcoat over her blazer.

"Oh." Kelly looked down for
a moment, disappointed. "Well, I guess I'll see you next week?" she looked
up, trying to hide the hope from her face. Charlotte smiled, blue eyes dancing,
the slightest bit of a crinkle at the corners.

"Yes, ma'am. That you
will. I have to get home. I waited for you, though. I wanted to at least say
hi."

"I know I'm late tonight.
Had something at work run over."

"Hey, it happens. Believe me,
I understand." She leaned in, surprised both herself and the blonde by giving
her a small hug. "Take care. Oh, and make a list of everything you want to
know about me, and bring it with you Friday." With that, she turned, and walked
out of the pub.

"Damn." Kelly turned to her
beer, drinking slowly, her mind whirling. Charlotte, Charlotte. Blonde brows
drew as she realized that she had no idea what Charlotte's last name
even was. She had no idea what she did for a living, where she lived, nothing.
They had met during the summer when Kelly had to go in McDougal's to
meet a guy for an interview on a toxic waste dump piece. It had been the end
of the work day, so after he had left, Kelly had stuck around to get dinner
and a beer. A tall, beautiful woman with dark hair had sat next to her, ordering
an Amaretto Sour. She had smiled at Kelly, and said hello. They had been talking
ever since. They talked about anything and everything; weather, politics,
news, and had often had heated debates on most topics. Did Bush deserve to
win, or should Gore have taken it. How well would Gore have dealt with 911.
On and on. Charlotte had an opinion on just about everything, and it usually
was at odds with Kelly's. All the same, the blonde found her intriguing,
and completely desirable.

She sighed again. "Damn."

John Lou walked to Bill's
office, hoping that the editor was finished with Kelly's column to print
for Saturday's edition. He whistled softly to himself as he walked up
the halls of the New York Post, running his fingers across the wall as he
went, jumping up to touch the very bottom of the EXIT sign, as he did everyday.

"Billy, you done?" he called
out, reaching the office of the editor. Dark brows drew. "Billy? Not here."
John shrugged, and grabbed the paper at the edge of the desk, sitting just
inside Bill's open briefcase, the usual place for completed articles.
He tucked the article under his arm, and headed toward the elevator, whistling
"We've Only Just Begun" He stared up at the lights, long lights, one
of them beginning to blink annoyingly. Time to get it changed out. He'd
have to remember to talk to the maintenance guy. What was his name? Kurt?
Kyle? He shrugged, looking down at the article in his hand, skimming it. He
enjoyed Kelly's work. They were usually full of insight and humor. Noticing
a third page, he brought it out, wanting to see why her article was extra
long this week. Dark brows drew again.

"'I want to hold you next
to me, feel your heart beat with mine, a meeting of the bodies now instead
of just the minds and insults.' What the hell is this? Friggin'
wild."

The courier smiled to himself.
How interesting.

"Who wrote it?" the red head
looked up into dark eyes, smiling conspiratorially. John shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I picked
it up in Bill's office, but it was with Kelly's column. What do
you think?" the short man leaned in closer on Lucy's desk, his hands
grasping his biceps tighter as he continued to lean in, reading over the secretary's
shoulder.

"'Though you and I may
not agree on much in life, you are still a turn on for me, and I want to try
and tame you, make you mine,' oh my god!" the secretary covered her eyes
with her hands, peaking at the page between her heavily ringed fingers before
glancing up at John. "This is so cool!" she breathed. "A love letter right
here in our very office."

"What will Bonny say?" John
asked, suddenly worried for the editor's wife. The red head shrugged,
her long earrings jingling with the movement.

"I have no idea. But this is
good shit." She continued to read on, fiery brows drawn. "Who is The Big C?"

"Beats me."

Kelly finally made it to her
apartment, exhausted, and ready for a nice, hot bubble bath. Her beagle, Pundit,
met her at the door, his white, black and brown tail about to wag off his
butt.

"Hello, baby." She crooned,
picking up the rambunctious eight month old , trying to avoid a puppy tongue
in her mouth at the excited greeting. Pundit whined and yelped in excitement,
trying to climb Kelly in his haste. "Okay, big boy. Chill." She gave him a
good squeeze, then set him on the floor, his nails making ticking sounds on
the hard wood. She walked through the small apartment, tossing her jacket
on the arm of the couch, followed by her purse, briefcase and gloves. A few
minutes, and trail of clothes later, Kelly reclined back into the old, claw-footed
tub, eyes closed, peaceful smile on her lips. A small sigh escaped as her
mind began to drift, create

"My column!" Kelly shot up
from the tub, grabbing a towel on her way to the living room, and the phone.
She dialed, waited impatiently for Bill to pick up.

"Hi. You've reached Bill
Stuart. I'm out of my office at the moment, so if you'd like to
try back sometime Monday through Friday until six pm.," Kelly glanced at the
clock over the mantle. Seven-twenty.

"Damn." She clicked the off
button, and looked around in frustration. She hoped he found her article in
the printer. With a sigh Kelly walked back to the bathroom. Why worry about
it; nothing she could do until Monday, anyway.

Monday came too soon, and Kelly
was anything but ready for it. She watched the elevator light up as it hit
each floor until it stopped finally on the eleventh with a ding, the doors
sliding open, and Karen Martin standing there, waiting to get into the car.
The younger woman stared for just a moment when she looked up to see Kelly,
then with a shrug, got in.

"Hey, Kel. How goes it?" the
receptionist asked. Kelly shrugged with a smile.

"It's okay, I guess. The
weekend wasn't long enough, though, I tell you. I think we should have
a five day weekend, and a two day workday. That seems fair, and we'd
all be much more productive people." The brunette chuckled.

"Yeah. Wouldn't that be
nice?" The blonde stared ahead again, the strange feeling of being watched
lurking over her. She glanced at the other woman in time to see dark eyes
dart away. Hmm. It looked almost as if Karen were confused about something,
or was trying to make a decision. She shook it off, and stared forward again,
only to get the same feeling moments later. She turned again, and again was
met with Karen's gaze quickly moving away. The elevator dinged on the
seventeenth floor, and Kelly gladly stepped out, headed toward her office.
She was surprised to see Bill waiting for her.

"Morning, Stuey. Sorry I forgot
to give my column to you Friday. That Mathis guy called to," her voice trailed
off as she looked into the solemn face of her boss. "Bill? You okay?" Bill
Stuart looked up from studying his hands, and stood from the edge of Kelly's
desk.

"We're friends, right,
Kel?" he asked, barely looking at the reporter before his eyes dropped again.

"Yes." Kelly said, setting
her coat and bag down on her chair, then putting an arm around the large man's
shoulders.

"Would you tell me the truth
if I asked you a question?"

"Of course." The blonde was
beginning to get really worried, her heart pounding in fear for her boss.

"Do you think Bonny would ever
cheat on me?"

"What?" Kelly was completely
taken aback. "No. Never. Why?"

"Just wondering." Bill shrugged,
and took a step toward the door. "Thanks. Oh, and good work on the column.
I found it." He gave her a weak smile, then was gone. Kelly stared after him,
wondering what the hell had happened in two days.

Bill walked back to his office,
rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he did so. They always kept it so damned
hot in the building. He sighed, thinking back to what he had read

I'm tired of trying
to compete with the paper. I need something real in my life, something that
I know will challenge me, and you do it, Big C. I think I've fallen in
love with you over the past year

Stuey looked at the picture
of him and Bonny in Maui taken the year before, looking into the blue eyes
of his wife, the woman he'd been married to for over thirty years. He
shook his head, running a hand through the salt and pepper strands.

"Why, Bonny. Why?"

He thought of all the hard
work he'd put into the Post, wanting to do the best job he could. He
had started out as the mail boy, watching all the reporters, learning, talking
to them, taking in everything they were willing to give. Finally he'd
made it to tackling his own stories, working hard, pounding the pavement,
following the cops, then making it to editor. He sighed again. Why now. He
had found the unfinished letter on top of his desk when he had come in. Right
on the edge of his desk where he kept his briefcase. It must have fallen out
Friday. How had it gotten in there in the first place? Had his wife put it
in there accidentally? He had noticed that her usual note of love had not
been there Friday. He had figured she had just forgotten. He sighed again.
She must have sent him the wrong letter.

Kelly was confused as she searched
through all the papers on her desk. She really needed to clean it off. Again.
What a slob. She stacked them in neat piles as she looked, tossing what should
have been thrown weeks ago, grimacing as she found the core of her apple from
last week that she had been looking for.

"That is truly disgusting."
She muttered, wiping sticky fingers on her pants after throwing it away. "Where
the hell is it?" she looked around the small office, as if something would
tell her. Then she looked to her printer, remembering. She had left it there,
forgetting it with her column Friday. "Damn." Figuring Bill had pitched it,
she put her reading glasses on, and turned on the computer, opening the file,
April Fools, Charlie Brown, and stared at the screen, fingers steepled under
her chin, began to chew on her bottom lip. "Okay, Charles Brown, you bastard.
What else can I say?" Kelly grabbed her copy of the Bergen Record that she'd
picked up on her way to work, and flipped it open to Charlie Brown's
column. Charles Brown worked for the rival paper in Hackensack, New Jersey.
Brown was pompous, opinionated, and just an all around asshole. They'd
been competing with their weekly columns for the past year. She took solace
in the fact that he did nothing else with the Record, obviously a bastard,
not worthy enough of writing regular articles. She grinned to herself. God,
she loved being a smart ass. Her April Fools plan was brilliant. Everyone
from Queens to Atlantic City knew of the hatred between Reynolds and Brown.
The Post had used the infamous war to sell papers.

Kelly poised her fingers above
the keyboard, and began to type

After everything that you and
I have been through in the past year, I have decided that I no longer wish
to fight with you. I have grown to respect your views, and pompous ways, and
even think that ridiculous little drawing of Charlie Brown next to your column
is kind of cute in a sick little way. So, Charles, I want you. I want to be
the Lucy to your Charlie. The Sally to your Schroeder, the Woodstock to your
Snoopy. I'll be your everything.

Kelly sat back in her chair,
brushing long strands of blonde our of her eyes. She sighed heavily, almost
wishing that the letter were true, and she had her own Charlie Brown out there
that she was in love with, and better yet, that loved her in return. She sighed
again, playing with a pencil in her hand, starting as it snapped in her fingers.
She tossed the halves to the desk, and stared at her monitor. Was this the
right thing to do? Was it cruel? What if Charlie Brown had a wife and kids
somewhere? They had nothing to do with this.

"Damn." She played with the
mouse, racing the curser around the screen aimlessly, thinking. She pointed
it to File, and pulled down the bar, highlighting Print.

Kelly turned her chair around,
her back to the noisy printer, and stared out the small window, the brick
building across the way blocking out most of the light, but some of the day
could be seen. She watched as far below cars rolled silently past, wishing
she were in any one of those, going anywhere, the love of her life at her
side.

"Grow up, Kel." She whispered
bitterly, and turned back to her comp, taking the printed pages from the printer,
looking them over, then impulsively, crumpling them, and throwing them toward
her wastebasket.

Julio Iglaesias wound his sexy
way around the song, Maria Torres closing her eyes in pleasure as her wide
hips swayed to the music, vacuum in hand.

"Sing it to me, baby," she
sang out, twirling in the lobby of the Post. She made her way to the elevators,
dragging her supplies behind her, turning the volume up on her Walkman, bringing
in the Spanish God's voice even closer to her heart, and her libido.

The car dinged, and the doors
slid open, all of floor seventeen looming before the housekeeper. Maria liked
to start at the top of the building and work her way down. She flipped light
switches as she went, bringing her high pitched singing to a moderate hum
as she looked around, seeing what needed to be done.

As usual, the editor's
office was an absolute sty, as was the reporter's office down the hall
from his.

"Mierda santa. Cogida," she breathed,
looking around. Papers scattered all over the desk, as usual. She looked to
the floor to see how bad it was. Not very, but this chick obviously had bad
aim. The wadded up ball of paper laid next to the trash. "Were you raised in
a fucking barn." She muttered as she looked at the paper, carefully unfolding
it as curiosity gripped her. Dark, heavily mascara-lined eyes opened wide. "'Isn't
it time to stop the charade? Isn't it time to reveal what everyone already
suspects is true? A deep love like ours should not be hidden. Your words, your
ideas, the sight of your name sends chills down my spine.'" Maria sighed,
the crumpled letter pressed to her ample bosom. "If only Carols was still like
this."

Spotting the worn chair by
the desk, Maria sat down, read the rest of the love letter.

Kelly was glad the week was
over. It had been long and tiring, stressful deadlines, and her moaning boss.
Bill had gone to her almost daily trying to figure out what was going on with
his wife. She had been hearing rumors about a letter, but no one would tell
her anything when she asked. She hated that.

McDougal's was coming
into view as she walked along the sidewalk, head ducked down against the wind,
hands buried in the deep pockets of her overcoat. The welcoming sounds and
smells greeted the blonde as she opened the door, a smile forming on her face
as she looked around, seeing who was in. Well, actually, if she was
in. The smile faltered slightly when the brunette was sitting at her usual
seat at the bar. Kelly sighed, and walked in.

Coat, gloves and hat on the
stool next to hers, Kelly pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows,
and ordered a beer. As she waited, she looked around again to make sure Charlotte
wasn't somewhere else. Dark blonde brows drew, and a hand swept blonde
hair behind her ear. She sighed in disappointment.

"Here ya go, Kelly. How has
your day gone?" Kelly took the mug with a grateful smile, and looked up at
the bartender.

"It's been alright, I
guess. Have you seen Charlotte, Frank?"

"Nope. She hasn't been
in all night. Sorry, kid."

"Thanks." She smiled again,
saluted the old guy, and turned on her stool to watch the bar. She began to
feel wistful as couples danced to the slow song that was playing, and the
groups of friends playing pool or darts. They laughed and talked, their voices
rising with excitement and liquor. She sighed. Since she'd been in the
city for the past two years, Kelly had felt so alone. She only had a few acquaintances
from the paper, and one or two from the bar. That was all. Her family was
so far away, and so involved in their own lives that she rarely heard from
them.

Kelly stood from the stool,
suddenly overcome with sadness. Grabbing her coat, she headed to the bathroom,
the tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision. The sound of voices and
music behind her, Kelly leaned against the closed bathroom door, her coat
falling to the tile floor. What was so wrong with her that no one wanted her?
Was she so ugly? So uninteresting? Why?

Spotting the mirror above the
sink across from her, Kelly stood, swiping at her eyes, and walked over to
it, staring hard at her reflection. Stormy green eyes stared back at her,
slightly red and puffy from crying. She examined her face, making faces, baring
her teeth, scrunching up her nose. People had told her that she was attractive,
but she never believed it. Mostly her mother had told her that, anyway. Mothers
are supposed to do that sort of thing. After all, what parent thinks their
child is hideous?

Kelly took her hair tie from
her pocket, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She looked once more,
drying her eyes and wiping her nose.

"this isn't worth it."
She muttered.

"What's not worth it?"

Kelly jumped, her hand on her
heart. Smiling blue eyes stood behind her, staring at her through the mirror.

"Are you okay? Frank said you'd
rushed back here. He was worried you were sick. So, here I am." Kelly turned
around to look into the familiar face of her friend. She was glad Charlotte
had shown. She needed a smiling face.

"Fine." She said, her voice
faltering just a bit.

"You sure?" midnight brows
drew as concern spread across Charlotte's features. Kelly looked into
her eyes, trying to read the other woman. Her head canted to the side slightly.

"Do you ever get lonely?" Charlotte
looked at her for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. Then she smiled
again, a small nod following.

"Definitely."

"Really?" the blonde asked,
her voice hopeful. She felt like such a child suddenly. She was young, and
felt incredibly naïve. Her head hanging, "Of course you do. Everyone
does now and then,"

"Hey," Charlotte took a step
closer. "What's wrong, Kelly? Why are you so sad tonight?" Kelly was
startled by the feel of a hand on her arm. "Is there anything I can do?" weepy
green eyes looked up into brilliant blue.

"I'm just so alone here."
Kelly said quietly, feeling ridiculous. "It's just hitting me hard tonight
for some reason, and when you weren't here when I came I was so sad,
I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight, you're really one
of my only friends, and I just,-" the blonde's voice trailed off as she
looked around the bathroom, avoiding the brunette.

"Hey," Charlotte soothed, her
hand on the blonde's shoulder, sliding up to the side of her neck. "I'm
here now. I understand. I really do." She pulled Kelly to her, cradling her
head against her chest. "It's hard to be alone. I know all about that."

"Oh, yeah. If you think I come
to McDougal's for my health, you're dead wrong." Charlotte sighed
when she felt the blonde chuckle against her. "I'm sorry I was late.
Work ran late. Deadlines; gotta love em."

"Yeah. I hear you." Kelly took
a step back out of her friend's arms. She looked sheepishly into understanding
blue eyes. "Thank you. I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too." Charlotte smiled.
"Care for a beer?"

"Best idea I've heard
all day."

Maria Torres looked around
to see if anyone was watching, then stepped into through the door marked MAILROOM
PERSONELLE ONLY. Rita had told her where her box was over the phone, so she
hurried to the last row. RITA MARQUEZ. Maria smiled in triumph, then reached
down the neckline of her uniform, feeling for the folded paper. Finding it,
she pulled it out, the sharp edges scratching her skin as she did, and quickly
tossed it into the black plastic box. Rita would surly get a good laugh out
of it when she came in the next day. Her friend had always complained that
Saturdays were boring, anyway.

As the two women walked out
of the bathroom, Charlotte thought back to what it had felt like to hold Kelly
close in her arms. The warmth, the softness. She sighed inwardly. It had been
so long, too long, since she had felt another woman against her. She knew
it was stupid to be thinking that way. Kelly was right; for all their talking,
they really knew nothing about each other. Typically that's how Charlotte
likes it. She was a loner, and liked it that way. No information, no hurt.
But the blonde was different.

She looked over at her friend
who walked by her side. Kelly had shown such vulnerability. That had taken
guts. The brunette admired people who could show emotion in front of others,
show their true selves. She had been hiding for so long, hiding behind her
opinions, using them as weapons to hurt and punish without the worry of consequences.

As they reached the bar, the
brunette had the strange, and sudden realization that Kelly made her want
to open up. Though she hadn't in the past six months, she wanted to.
It was time.

Monday came around again, and
Kelly was flying high. The weekend had been wonderful, spending most of it
with Charlotte. Her new friend was amazing. She was not only beautiful, but
also smart, funny, down to earth, and a complete mystery.

Kelly sat at her desk, the
blank screen of a new document staring at her. She didn't care. Her mind
was back at the bowling alley where not one game had been played. The had
rented their shoes, put their score sheets on the table, but didn't bother
to find a ball, or walk up to the alley to roll it. Sitting on the long plastic
bench, they had faced each other, both caught in animated conversation, feeling
as if they had not spoken to another person in years.

"Someone looks happy."

Kelly was thrown from her reverie
by Stuey. She looked up, focusing on the editor.

"Hey, Bill. Yeah, guess I am."
She smiled. "What can I do for you?" she sat up straight in her chair to give
him her full attention. He walked into the office, sitting across from her.
She noticed a piece of paper in his hand, which he held up.

"Do you know anything about
this?" he asked, his eyes intense, hopeful. Kelly was absolutely baffled.

"Well," she took the paper,
looking at him for a second before she slid her glasses on, and read. A moment
later, her eyes were open wide, stuck on Bill's face. "Where did you
get this?"

"Well, uh, so it's yours,
then?" the editor sat forward in his chair. If the reporter hadn't been
so confused she would have been amused at him.

"Yes. It was something I was
going to write for the upcoming April Fools edition. Why?"

Bill flopped against the back
of the chair, blowing out a breath of relief. "So, it is yours? You wrote
that?" Kelly nodded, brows drawn, setting the unfinished letter down onto
the desk. A wide, toothy grin spread across her boss's face. "Thank you,
Kel. I really can't thank you enough." He jumped up, headed toward the
door, turning around to grin at her again before he was gone.

"What the?" Utterly confused,
Kelly shook her head to clear it, and sat back, immersing her mind once again
into her weekend with Charlotte.

"Hey, Charlie?"

"Yeah?" the reporter said,
not bothering to look up from the screen, fingers flying madly across the
keyboard, punching out the weekly column.

"Mail."

"Leave it on the desk, please,"
came the distracted reply. The small, white envelope was placed where asked,
and the secretary walked back to her office. Charlie continued with the column,
stopping only to think before the ticking of pounded keys resumed.

"So, I hear you've got
quite the admirer." Fingers stopped, irritated blue eyes looked up to see
Dylan Walker standing in the doorway of the office, arms crossed over his
muscular chest. He straightened out the collar of his dress shirt, the cocky
smile still on his tanned face.

"What?" Dylan looked up.

"You mean you don't know? Well, I must say, I'm mighty disappointed
in you, Charlie. You're supposed to be the super stud researcher, here.
At least, so they say." Charlie sat up straight in the office chair, whipping
dark hair behind her shoulder.

"Unlike you, I actually do
my work. So, if you'd like to cut to the chase, it would certainly make
my life easier." This followed by an equally slimy smile to match Walker's.
Dylan stared at her for a moment, sizing her up, deciding on the best angle
to break the news.

"You nemesis, K. Reynolds?
Well, seems she's wanting to make either some sort of love-sick ass out
herself, or just a plain old ass out of you."

Charlie stood to her full height,
crossing her arms over her chest, annoyance obvious. "Go on."

"Well, it's all right
there." Dylan pointed to the envelope on the reporter's desk. "Read it
and weep." He chuckled at his own joke. Charlie didn't. Instead she reached
over, grabbed the letter, and tore into it. The paper inside was crinkled
and rough around the edges.

"Looks like that has certainly
gotten around." Dylan snorted. Charlie glared at him.

"Wanna leave?" She said, a
statement more than a question. Dylan may not be the sharpest tool in the
shed, but he knew better than to cross Charlotte Black. Too bad K. Reynolds
wasn't so perceptive.

The brunette sat down behind
her desk again, began to read.

Bill Stuart stared at the dead
receiver, brows drawn to form nearly a solid line across his forehead. He
carefully cradled the phone, and stared off toward Kelly Reynolds's office.

"Oh, boy." He took a deep breath,
and stood from his chair.

"Okay, so you're telling
me that he was five years old, right?" the blonde listened to the social worker
on the other end of the line, scribbling notes, nodding every now and then.
"Great. Okay. That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Morten. Thank you, and you also
have a nice day." She smiled into the receiver. "What a nice lady." And hung
it up. She began to write again, getting her thoughts and notes in order when
someone tapped on her closed door. "Come in," she called out, continuing to
write.

Bill watched his young reporter
as she diligently wrote. He knew she was working on an important story, and
hated to bother her, but it was too important to wait.

"Be with you in a second."
Kelly made a few last remarks and ideas for later, then dropped her pen, smiling
at her visitor. "Hey, Stuey." She smiled. Bill gave her a half-hearted grin,
and sat down. "Okay. Now what's happened?" she leaned forward on her
elbows, eyeing her boss.

"Well, I just got a call from
someone at the Record." He began. The blonde looked at him, nonplussed. "I
was a bit surprised, too. It seems your little letter has really gotten around."
Bill chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. Kelly stared at
him.

"What? What do you mean, gotten
around?"

"Charlie Brown saw it, and
needless to say, he ain't happy."

"What!" Kelly bolted out of
the chair. "How did it get all the way over there? Stue, I threw it away!
I changed my mind." She plopped back down in her chair, hand over her eyes.

"I know, Kel. I told him that,
but it didn't seem to matter." The editor watched the blonde to see her
reaction before he told her the rest of it. She looked pale, worried. "Um,
Kelly? There's one more thing." The reporter looked up at the editor,
green eyes open wide. He could tell she was steeling herself for what he had
to say next. "Charlie Brown wants to set up a meeting with you." Kelly stared,
mouth agape.

"Oh." She seemed to shrink
in her seat. She wasn't sure why that scared her, but she was filled
with dread. Bill narrowed his eyes.

"What's wrong? You can
take him." He grinned. The blonde looked up at him.

"I don't know, Stuey.
I didn't mean to hurt anyone. It was just going to be a joke."

"I know." The editor tried
to soothe.

"When?" she asked quietly.

"Monday."

Kelly waited at the bar, clammy
hands wrapped around her usual beer. She really needed to talk to Charlotte.
Needed some advice. She couldn't understand why she was so nervous about
the meeting. Bill assured her that she had nothing to worry about, but it
really wasn't the job that she was worried about in the first place.
She was worried about coming face to face with Charles Brown, her nemesis
for over a year. Also, it sort of ruined the mystery behind the competition.

"Hey, you!"

Kelly turned, ripped from her
thoughts, and smiled.

"Hi! I'm glad you're
here. I'm in a bit of a quandary." Charlotte's brows drew as she
pulled the scarf from around her shoulders, and sat down.

"What's up?" she motioned
for a beer from Frank, and turned her attention back to her friend.

"Well, it's a work thing.
Now," Kelly raised her hands to ward off Charlotte's protests. "I know
we said no work talk, but I need to."

"Okay. So talk to me."

"Okay. Here's the deal.
There's this person who I've been basically in competition with
for the last year or so, and I did something stupid, they found out about
it, and now want a meeting with me. In some sort of sick way, I do respect
this person. I mean, hell, he's been able to keep up with me." Kelly
smiled. "So, I don't know. I'm just not looking forward to this
at all."

Charlotte watched her friend
talk, seeing the worry and nervousness take hold of her body. She wanted so
badly to take her in her arms, and make it all better. Instead she took a
deep breath.

"Well, I guess if you must
have a meeting with this person, I'd tell them just that."

"What?" the blonde looked miserable,
shoulders slumped.

"Tell him that you respect
his work, you know you made a mistake, and that's that. The both of you
go on with your lives. It obviously seems to work the way it is, right?"

"Yeah."

"There you go." Charlotte smiled,
satisfied with her own answer. Kelly thought about it for a moment, sipping
from her beer. Then with a smile, she looked at her friend.

"Thanks. I don't know
why I was so nervous on this deal." She shrugged, drained her mug.

"Hey!" Kelly started at Charlotte's
exuberance. "Let's go see a movie. You've had a rough day, and I've
had one hell of an interesting one." She grinned wickedly, thinking about
the craziness at work. She couldn't wait to nail that little pain in
the ass at the meeting on Monday. "I need some fun." The blonde brightened
immediately.

"Yeah! Sounds great." She grabbed
her purse and coat, and smiled at the other woman.

They sat in the dark, the movie
playing out before them. Kelly felt like a million bucks, so happy to have
Charlotte by her side. She glanced over at the other woman, who seemed riveted
by what she was seeing. The blonde looked down at the brunette's hands,
one resting on her thigh, the other, the closest one to Kelly, laid on the
arm rest. She stared at it for a moment, then the impromptu decision made,
she grabbed it, gently entwining their fingers. A feeling so big, and so warm
washed over her as Charlotte's fingers squeezed hers in return. She looked
up to meet twinkling blue eyes, and smiling lips. Kelly smiled back, utter
contentment filing her. She turned back to the movie, and trying to bring
herself back to earth, and out of the clouds.

The smile would not leave her
lips no matter what she did, or thought about. Not even the impending meeting
could destroy her memories of the weekend. It had been wonderful, the time
she and Charlotte had spent together, eating, going to another movie, then
Kelly making them dinner at her place the night before. She sighed. Life was
good.

"Kel?" the blonde looked up.

"Hmm?"

"It's time."

Kelly looked into the understanding
gaze of her boss, but her stomach began to do a flip flop. The good feelings
of before began to be overcome with the nervousness she felt then. But, later
that night she had made plans with Charlotte, so she would just focus on that.

The imposing presence of Charlotte
Black caused people to stare, or move quickly out of her way as she walked
through the lobby of the New York Post. She looked around, her well-fitted
blue suit giving the impression that she was there on business, that she meant
business.

The brunette saw the elevators,
and walked toward them, noting the pictures on the wall next to them. She
looked them over as she waited, when one picture in particular made her stop
in her tracks. She took a step closer, studying the image.

"Kelly." She breathed, looking
into the familiar green eyes, smiling face. Confused, she looked down at the
nameplate below. Kelly Reynolds- Reporter of the Year, 2002

Charlotte took a deep breath,
stupefied. She thought back to the time they'd been spending together,
especially the night before. Kelly had made homemade spaghetti with a wonderful
meat sauce. Charlotte rarely got home-cooked meals, so it had been more than
just a nice dinner with a friend. Then she thought about the video they had
rented and watched, sitting on Kelly's couch. Both not knowing what to
do. The chemistry between them had steadily been building, causing them to
move closer and closer together on the couch as the night wore on, until they
were finally thigh to thigh.

It had felt so wonderful, so
right. By the end of the evening, they had been joking, laughing, talking.
All thought of nervousness and uncertainty had flown out the window.

"I better go." Charlotte had
finally said, noticing how late it had gotten. "I have to be to work early
in the morning." Kelly had glanced at her watch, then groaned.

"Me, too." She grinned. "Well,
I had a really great time."

"Me, too." Charlotte had looked
at the blonde, unsure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but didn't
now how Kelly would react, so she had simply stood, and headed for the door,
the puppy, Pundit following her, tail wagging thousand to none.

"Good-bye, little guy." She
had crooned, kneeling down to rub the beagle on top of his head. Charlotte
stood, Kelly standing only a few feet away. "Thank you for dinner." The brunette
said quietly, not wanting to leave at all, but knowing she had to for so many
different reasons.

"You're very welcome."
Kelly had smiled, looking absolutely beautiful in her jeans and oversized
sweater, hair swept back behind both ears. "Come back any time."

"I will." Before she knew what
was happening, Charlotte found herself taking a step toward the blonde. Kelly
sucked in a breath, standing her ground. The brunette raised her hand to Kelly's
face, palming her cheek, looking into the curious, innocent eyes that she
had grown to adore. She leaned down, barely brushing her lips over the blonde's,
smiling at the intake of breath that caused, then went back for more. Kelly
raised her arms, wrapping them around the brunette's neck, gently pulling
her into her, body pressed to body.

Lips lingered together, breathing
becoming one. Kelly wasn't sure how far to go, nor could she believe
she was there in the first place. What she had wanted since she had first
seen Charlotte in McDougal's. She eased her tongue out a bit, waiting
for the Charlotte to take the bait. It didn't' take long. They both
moaned slightly as the kiss deepened, Kelly being pulled impossibly closer,
reveling in the feel of a warm body, hard against her own.

Charlotte ran her hands down
Kelly's back, the softness of her sweater felt good on her palms. Finally,
she knew she had to stop. If it continued like it was, she would not be able
to at all, and she wasn't ready to take the next step.

The brunette pulled back gently,
bringing the kiss down a rung or two, her eyes remaining closed as she pulled
back completely. With a small sigh, she opened them, only to look into twin
pulls of stormy green.

"I better go." She breathed,
taking another step back. Kelly nodded mutely, trying to pull herself together.
"Thanks again." Charlotte turned toward the door, her hand on the knob when
she turned back. "Um, would you like to have dinner tomorrow night?"

Kelly looked at her, surprised,
and thrilled. She smiled. "Yes." The brunette smiled.

"Good. I'll call you from
the office."

Charlotte stared into Kelly's
face, not sure what to think or feel. The woman she was beginning to fall
in love with had been her nemesis? That was just wrong. She felt anger wash
through her, then thought about the reason she was there in the first place.
Kelly was going to publish that condescending, horrible fake love letter to
Charlie Brown as some sort of April Fools joke.

"Well, April Fools to you,
Kelly." The brunette turned from the elevator and headed for the front door
of the Post.

"Where the hell is he?" Bill
asked, pacing in the conference room, Kelly sitting at the head of the table,
playing nervously with a pencil. She shrugged, staring straight ahead.

"Don't know." She glanced
down at her watch. He was now an hour and a half late. She sighed, tossing
the pencil to the table, and standing. "Should we call?" she asked her editor,
walking over to the large windows that over looked the busy street fifteen
floors below.

"That's up to you, Kel.
What do you think?" the blonde looked over at her boss, meeting his gaze for
a moment before she shook her head.

"Nah. If he can't be man
enough to show up, then why bother?" she turned, and walked to the door. "If
he happens to show, call me."

The reporter walked back to
her office, irritated and on the verge of furious. He had made her get so
worked up over the meeting that he apparently never intended to keep. She
pushed the door open, and walked into the tiny room, plopping down into her
chair. She played with the mouse, staring at the wallpaper on her monitor.

"Fuck it." She picked up her
phone, dialed information. "The Bergen Record, please." Kelly waited, chewing
on her lip as she listened to the butchered elevator version of Over
the Rainbow'.

"Bergen Record. How may I help
you?"

Kelly straightened up in her
chair, surprised by the sudden voice on the other end. "Hi, yes, may I please
speak to Charles Brown?"

"Charles Brown, oh! I'm
sorry, ma'am. Charlie isn't in the office right now. You can try
back in about an hour."

"Thank you."

Kelly hung up the phone, and
thought. Well, hell. What now? Then with a sudden adrenaline shot, the blonde
stood from her chair, grabbing her purse, and heading out of her office.

The traffic was relatively
light on the drive into Jersey. Kelly blared the radio, Melissa Etheridge
singing Scarecrow' with her usual soul. Kelly felt so free, actually
driving, ever grateful for company cars.

"Charlie Brown? Writes the
weekly column?" Kelly asked, getting more irritated by the minute. God, does
anyone here know who the hell the writers are?

"Oh. Um, just a minute." The
woman picked up her phone, speaking softly into it. She looked up at the reporter,
covering the mouthpiece with her hand. "Who may I say is here?"

"Just tell him K Reynolds."
She said, a satisfied smirk on her lips. The woman spoke some more, then hung
the receiver up with a smile to Kelly.

"Charlie will be down in a
moment."

"Thank you."

Kelly looked around, studying
the artwork on the walls, finding the painting of the first Bergen Record
building interesting.

"K Reynolds. We meet at last."

Kelly turned, surprised to
hear the voice of a woman, and even more surprised to see Charlotte standing
before her, arms crossed across her chest, her eyes cold.

"Charlotte." Kelly smiled,
her voice faltering just a bit when she looked into those eyes. "I didn't
know you worked here."

"Looks like we're both
full of surprises, huh? April Fools, K Reynolds."

Kelly studied the other woman,
trying to figure out what was going on. An idea popped into her head, but
she could not reconcile it with what she knew. That couldn't be Charlie
Brown. Could it? Could it be,

"No, I did. But, when I saw
who K Reynolds was, I just didn't see a point. Pretty low, and dirty,
don't you think? What if I had had a family? Did you stop to think about
that?" Charlotte asked, looking the blonde dead in the eye. Kelly quickly
looked away, nodding.

"That's why I changed
my mind." The brunette was surprised.

"Changed your mind? How did
you change your mind?"

"I wasn't going to use
that letter. It was a joke, and a bad one. I decided against it." Kelly explained,
finding some strength in the fact that she had tried to head this off. Charlotte
looked confused.

"Then how did I get the letter?"
the blonde shrugged.

"I really don't know.
I have no idea how it got out. I threw it away."

"Oh."

Kelly sank down into a chair
nearby, wondering how this would affect things between them. Charlotte stayed
where she was, not sure what to do. She looked down at her crossed arms, then
at Kelly through her bangs. Her heart cried out to go take the blonde into
her arms; she looked so sad, so dejected. Suddenly a rueful smile spread across
her face, then she began to chuckle quietly. The blonde looked up at her quizzically.

"How wild is this?" Charlotte
asked, walking over to the chairs, sitting next to the blonde. "All this time,
you are K Reynolds." She looked over at her friend. "You have to admit it's
kind of funny." Kelly stared at her for a moment, not sure what to do, then
slowly smiled herself.

"Yeah. Guess it is." Her smile
got bigger until it enveloped her entire face, then it faltered. "Look, Charlotte,
I am sorry about the letter. You pissed me off with your comments on the Giuliani
thing, and so I got the idea."